


It's Totally Platonic

by Crazier_Than_You



Category: American Vandal (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, Little Miss Perfect, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Panic Attacks, Peter's a little oblivious? But that's cuz he's struggling, Sam is here to help, slightly OOC, song-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:35:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazier_Than_You/pseuds/Crazier_Than_You
Summary: Peter Maldonado is your typical straight-laced, straight-A, successful student. IN fact, he's perfect.And totally, completely straight.Except maybe not.Based on the song Little Miss Perfect by Joriah Kwamé
Relationships: Sam Ecklund/Peter Maldonado
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	It's Totally Platonic

**Author's Note:**

> I have no clue why, but when I first heard this song, I immediately imagined my boys, so I had to get it out of my head. I love these boys with my whole heart, and I had a lot of fun bringing them to life. 
> 
> I tried to match the tone of the song. I think it went okay? Maybe? I really hope you like it!

Peter Maldonado had a fantastic life. He had straight As, a successful documentary, and was the lead anchor on the Morning Show. Netflix wanted him to make a season two, Everyone wanted to be his friend. He was on track to get into any college he applied to. He was responsible— he’d never gotten too drunk or gotten into a car accident or anything. He was perfect.

Well, almost perfect. There was one thing that could bring his whole life crashing down on his shoulders, and it, or rather _he_ , was currently walking by his locker. Peter felt a fluttering in his chest, but he pushed it down and forced himself to look back at his locker until he heard a voice behind him. 

“Hey, dude. Did you hear anything else from Netflix?” Sam Ecklund. Peter’s best friend. Peter’s demise. His biggest secret. Sam was smiling at Peter, which caused a smile to spread across his face. 

“Yea, they’re gonna send over some emails for us, so that we can pick our next case.” He responded carefully, keeping all his emotions tamped down. He couldn’t let his perfect facade crack. Not when he was so close to having everything he ever dreamed of. 

“Sweet! Send them my way, and we can pick one out pronto.” Sam replied, slapping Peter on the shoulder and continuing on his way as the bell rang. “I’ll see you after school.” 

Peter stood there, watching him go. Then, he shook himself off. He did not have a crush on Sam. He couldn’t. Being gay wasn’t a part of his plan, and if it got out, it could ruin every chance that he had. Besides, it would be absurd. He was perfect. He was 18. That was way too young to even understand what love was.

He turned to grab his stuff and head to his own class. He could get control of this. He had to. After all, Peter was Mr. Perfect— straight As, straight forward, straight boy. That’s all he was. 

* * *

If anyone asked Peter how he was doing, he doesn’t quite know how he would respond. On one hand, he was doing well. Everything was together. He had a loving mom who had given him every opportunity she could. He had the freedom to pursue his interests. Yea, he didn’t know his real dad that well— he’d left when Peter was two, and he never tried to contact him after that. 

On the other hand, he had a lot on his plate. And one of those things was picking a case for American Vandal’s second season. He sighed, frustrated, as he read another email about a dick drawn on a locker at some school in the Midwest. He should’ve known that starting his career off with a dick documentary would put him in a box. He closed out of his email aggressively, opening a blank google doc to start on his essay that was due the next day. 

As he tried to figure out where to start, he allowed his gaze to wander up from his laptop screen. Sam was laying on his back across from him, head dangling off the edge of the bed as he scrolled through the emails Peter had sent him on his phone. The blood rushing to his head had given him a pretty blush, and Peter found it hard to look away. 

“How about this one?” Sam looked over, and Peter quickly flicked his eyes back to his screen, pretending like he hadn’t been staring. 

“Hmm?” He hummed as he watched the pointer on his screen blink. He hoped Sam didn’t notice the heat rushing to his cheeks, as he tried to shake away his fascination with the other boy. This wasn’t who he was. However, it was very hard to ignore the way his heart started racing as Sam scooted closer to show him whatever he had up on his phone. 

“This girl, Chloe, she sent an email about some guy at her school called The Turd Burglar, and there are videos involved. It looks gnarly, but the shit jokes would be amazing. Not to mention, we are doing season 2— pun completely intended.” Sam wiggled his eyebrows at the joke, and Peter felt a small smile spread across his face at the expression. 

He looked over the email and raised his brows as he read more. “They already arrested someone for it, but Chloe thinks he’s been framed, and that it’s really the star athlete? That’s interesting.” 

“Exactly, it’s some kind of cover-up!” Sam crowed excitedly. Peter felt himself get excited as well. “Chloe lives in Washington and says we can stay in her family’s guest house. She sent pictures! This place looks sweet!!” 

“Our parents wouldn’t like that very much,” Peter said cautiously. 

“Oh come on. If anyone could convince them, it’d be you. You’re so responsible that parents never think you’ll do anything wrong.” Sam argued. 

Peter was stuck there. He was very good at convincing adults to give him what he wanted. But shooting the first season of American Vandal had taken months. He didn’t know how he’d be able to handle spending a large amount of time with Sam unsupervised in a house that it seemed like they would have to themselves. 

Then he shook his head. It wouldn’t be a problem. It couldn’t be a problem. Peter was completely straight, and he shouldn’t worry about it. The case sounded interesting, his mom would probably agree, and it would be nice to take a break from Hanover for a while.

“So, should I email Netflix back and tell them we’ve made a choice?” He peered over at Peter through his eyelashes, and Peter ignored his brain as it screamed out how attractive Sam looked. He bit his lip, considering, before finally giving up and nodding slowly.

“Yea, dude. I’ll write up a proposal for our parents, so they can see our general plan.” He flashed Sam a smile, which was returned in full force.

“You’re such a dork.” Sam teased, bringing the blush back to Peter’s face. He forced himself to look down at his screen to start the proposal, but his determination was wavering. 

Was he really as perfect as everyone thought?

* * *

Chloe’s guest house was amazing. There were multiple rooms, a fantastic kitchen, and enough space that Peter could sit on the floor in the living room with the papers spread out around him while Sam stood at his bulletin board (also in the living room!!!) and moved strings around as their theories shifted. 

St. Bernadine’s was a lot different from Hanover, and it really showed in this case. Unlike with the dicks, there was no clear main suspect that wasn’t Kevin, and even the evidence against Kevin was a little shaky. Peter was pretty sure that it was a school-wide conspiracy to protect the star basketball player, but the taunts from the Turd Burglar himself only made the waters murkier. 

Peter groaned and fell back onto his back after going over everything again. Sam looked up from where he had been staring at his board and made his way over to sit next to Peter. He didn’t say anything, which Peter appreciated. He was frustrated and wasn’t ready to talk about it. He’s pretty sure his frustration has been seeping into their footage, and he had gotten some flack for being snappy with Sam during filming. 

Although, part of the snapping at Sam had been because he was angry about all the thoughts swirling around in his mind. It had gotten harder and harder to shove his feelings down as they’ve spent more and more time alone. The guest house was huge, but Peter and Sam were never more than 5 feet apart except when they go to sleep. Even then, as time has gone on, they’ve spent less time in their respective bedrooms, and more time falling asleep in the living room as they try to work out their theories late into the night. 

The prolonged time was _nice_ , and he was scared. Scared that the world would find out he wasn’t the perfect boy that everyone expected him to be, scared that he would be shunned by his friends and family, and of course, scared that he would act on his feelings and lose his best friend. Sam had been in his life since they were 5, and Peter wasn’t quite sure what he would do without him. He knew that Sam was bi— he’d come out after American Vandal season one had wrapped, but he was positive that Sam didn’t feel anything for him. Or at least, Sam had never given any indication that he felt anything other than friendship for Peter. 

Peter groaned again, and Sam started to card his fingers through Peter’s hair in a soothing gesture. It was nice, and Peter had to stop himself from sighing at the feeling. Already he could feel his body relaxing and all the stress melting away. He leaned into the touch a little and quieted the voice in his mind that told him it was wrong. This was just a friend comforting another friend while they were in a space of extreme stress. 

Everything about Sam drew Peter to him. His kind heart, his lame jokes, his smile. Sam was intoxicating in his own right, and Peter could feel the careful walls he built crumbling in his presence. He opened his eyes and looked up at Sam who was smirking at him. 

“You’re like melting.” Sam laughed softly, and Peter was floating. It almost felt like he was tipsy because the voices quieted away, and everything tilted ever so slightly. Except for Sam. Peter looked at him, feeling anchored through the hand on his head. Then, Peter must have blacked out. He wasn’t sure, but when he came back to himself, he was kissing Sam. 

He was kissing Sam! His eyes sprang open, and he moved to pull away, but then Sam started to respond and he fell into it. It was everything that he’d imagined— sparks flew behind his eyes, and his heart sighed as he finally, _finally_ let himself go. Then he hears a noise outside, and his eyes spring open again. Behind Sam, he could just make out Chloe, who looked like she had been on her way to talk to them. She was frozen, staring at the scene before her, and Peter sprang back away from Sam. 

Sam looked confused and opened his mouth as he turned to follow Peter’s eyes, and Peter panicked. He bolted into his room, slamming the door behind him. Glancing around the room wildly, he could feel his thoughts racing around his head. 

_Chloe had seen everything. She was going to tell everyone, and Peter would never become a great filmmaker. His reputation would be ruined. Netflix would drop American Vandal. His mother would disown him. Sam would never talk to him again._

_Sam probably already never wanted to talk to him again. Peter had kissed him! He hadn’t followed, so he must have been disgusted. Maybe he was even out there laughing about it with Chloe. Laughing about how Peter wasn’t as perfect as everyone thought. Everything had unraveled with that one action. His entire life was ruined._

He felt his heart begin to speed up. At first, he thought it was from the physical exertion because he was breathing heavily as well. But then he realized that he couldn’t catch his breath and his eyes went wide. Tears began welling up in his eyes as he struggled to breathe, but it was too shallow, and now he couldn’t feel his arms or legs, and his head felt fuzzy. 

“Hey! Peter, hey! Look at me.” Like an angel, Sam appeared in his now spotty vision. “You need to take a breath. Everything’s okay, just breathe deep for me.” 

Peter shook his head, trying to convey that he couldn’t. He was about to die, he could feel it, but Sam was calm and collected. He pressed a heavy hand to Peter’s stomach, and the heat from his hand seeped through his shirt.

“Pete, dude. I need you to take a deep breath. Can you try moving my hand with your stomach?” Peter tried, and this time the air whooshed down to his diaphragm, and he felt Sam’s hand move with his expanding belly. “Good, you’re doing so good. Can you do another one for me?” 

So, they continued until Peter had calmed down enough that Sam could step away. He moved over to Peter’s backpack and dug through the small pocket, as Peter continued to breathe into the warm spot on his stomach where Sam’s hand had been. Then, he started coughing, but it was okay cuz Sam was there, prepping his inhaler and holding it to his mouth. Peter put his hand on top of Sam’s and pushed down as he inhaled and held his breath. 

He wasn’t sure when Sam had moved him to sit on the bed, but he felt the comforting soft bed sink under his weight as he exhaled and collapsed onto Sam’s shoulder and sobbed. He cried for their friendship, for himself, for all the stress that had been building up. He cried for everything he had that was about to go away. 

But Sam didn’t move away. In fact, he pulled Peter closer and moved his hand back to his hair. “Everything is going to be fine. You’re okay. I’m okay. We’re okay. Everything is fine.” Sam repeated that mantra a couple of times until finally Peter sat up and pulled himself together. He looked up at Sam and said the first thing that came to mind.

“I’m sorry.” 

Sam looked back at him. “For what?” 

“For kissing you. For freaking out. For running away.” He took a deep breath. “I... I know you don’t like me like that, and I understand that you don’t want to be my friend anymore. Chloe is probably going to tell everyone, which means American Vandal is going to get canceled, so you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Peter felt his breath speed up again. “I’m so, so sorry that I’m not perfect.” He sobbed. 

“Shhh, shh. Pete, everything’s okay. C’mon, breathe for me.” Sam moved his hand back to Peter’s stomach, and Peter began breathing into it again. “There you go. Now, first off, it’s a little insulting for you to assume Chloe was going to out you. She’s a sweet girl and is in the living room, hoping that you are okay. She’s not going to tell anyone. I promise.”

Peter nodded, realizing that Sam was right. Nothing about Chloe was malicious, and she wasn’t going to tell anyone what she saw. He owed her an apology for even thinking it. Sam must have been able to read his mind because as soon as Peter came to that conclusion, he continued.

“Secondly, it’s 2018. Sure, there are homophobes in the world, but a large majority of people do not care if you are gay. Hell, I’m pretty sure most of our audience already thinks we’re dating. I’ve been fielding questions from my family and your mom about whether or not we’re together practically since I came out. Which brings me to my next point. Pete, I like you a lot. I’ve liked you since freshman year, and I’m so, so happy that you feel the same.” 

Peter’s breath left him again, but this time, it wasn’t terrifying. In fact, it was freeing. Sam liked him. _Sam_ liked him. And he was right! All the feelings that Peter had been suppressing, no one really cared about. No one really gave a shit about who he liked and who he didn’t like. Everyone in his life had been super supportive of Sam when he came out, and now that he’s thinking about it, he’s pretty sure Dylan just assumed they were together from the way he talks about them sometimes.

He looked back up at Sam, and tentatively, carefully leaned forward again. Sam, who was nothing like Peter, crashed their lips together, and Peter felt all the passion and feelings that Sam had pour into the kiss. He never wanted to stop. This was the best feeling in the whole world. He wanted to spend the rest of his life kissing Sam. 

Sam pulls away to catch his breath and laughs. Peter laughs too, relieved, and moves to kiss him again. Instead, Sam connects their foreheads and looks into his eyes. Sam’s eyes have always been extremely expressive, and this was no different. Peter could feel himself drowning in them. 

“Pete?” Sam says softly, and Peter nods to show he’s listening. Sam bites his lip, as if nervous about the next words that he was about to say. 

“You’ve never been perfect.” Sam laughs as Peter rolls his eyes and kisses him again. 


End file.
